Yoga
by tennesseegirl2014
Summary: To keep up with Team Arrow, Felicity decides to get in shape, starting with yoga. It doesn't go well, until Oliver decides to takes up yoga. Olicity fluff.


I, Felicity Smoak, am hated by millions of women.

Not because I'm the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, not because I'm basically a genius MIT graduate (not that I like to brag), and not even because I'm engaged to a former-billionaire, mayoral candidate, and all around hottie Oliver Queen, who happens to moonlight as a super hero (not that anyone knows that).

It's because I can eat whatever I want and stay a size two. It's probably the best thing I inherited from my mother.

But the size two label on my clothes doesn't mean I am what you would call "in shape." I can't run two blocks without looking for the nearest trashcan and becoming reacquainted with my lunch.

So I decided that if I'm going to be apart of Team Arrow, I should at least get in shape so I can defend myself from whatever hoodlums decided to invade Star City next beyond scurrying across the room in stiletto heels and whacking them with a pipe. I was thinking of taking up karate, though I'm sure Oliver will object, but that's a debate for another time. But I decided I to start slow with some yoga and pilates, you know, build up my stamina before I started hard-core training.

But after a week, I was ready to give up. I _thought_ I was a decently flexible person with decent balance, but I was wrong.

Sure, it _looks_ easy, if you can actually reach your toes or do a push up. I, however, am not one of those people. I was thrilled when I discovered I could stand on one foot with my leg and hands stretched out for more than three seconds without falling over.

I came home one evening after getting stuck late at the office to the sight of Oliver in the middle of our living room, dressed in sweatpants and a sleeveless tee, _doing yoga._

"Since when do you do yoga?" I asked as I dropped my bag on the table and pulled out my laptop.

"I used to do it all the time," he answered, shifting effortlessly into a one-handed handstand. "I've been away from it for a while, but I find that it not only is good for building flexibility and strength, but it helps me stay centered and fight the darkness."

"Is that so," I mumbled as I sat down at my computer.

"I took the inspiration to start up again from you," he said, looking over at me as he stretch out and looked up towards the ceiling, supporting himself on his arms. "We should do this together something."

"For the sake of our relationship, we definitely should not," I said, typing furiously at my laptop.

"Suit yourself, honey," he said.

I tried to keep my eyes focused on my laptop, but I couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of my eye. I was simultaneously jealous and turned on by his ability to twist his sculpted body into intricate and difficult poses with relative ease. I had no idea a grown man stretching could be so damn sexy. How did he even learn to do that? Did they teach yoga on that god-forsaken island stranded on?

 _This would be almost as hot as the salmon ladder if he would take his shirt off._

"What?" he asked.

I froze. Did I say that out loud? Was I staring?

"Wh-what, what?" I stuttered. Please tell me I did not stay that out loud.

"Felicity," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Wh-wh-what?" I couldn't think or talk straight.

"If you want me to take my shirt off, all you have to do is ask," he said.

"I—I—I—," coherent thought could return at anytime now. Oliver peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the couch before going back to his routine. All hope for coherent speech vanished as I watched him roll from a headstand to a meditation position.

 _Muscles, so many muscles. Naked in my living room._

"You're mumbling again," Oliver said with a smirk, his eyes remaining closed in meditation.

Damn it. Why can't my thoughts stay in my head?

"Ollie," I said. His eyes snapped open revealing the crystal blue orbs starring straight into my soul.

"Yes?" he answered. I stood up, kicked off my heels and walked over to where he was sitting on the yoga mat and knelt down in front of him before pushing him down on the ground and crawling on top of him, my lips inches from his.

"You should yoga more often," I whispered before covering his lips with mine.


End file.
